Chapter 370: First Match Ends

Besides not advancing with the wave attack, if you jump I'll crouch a heavy punch! Bai Lang muttered this sentence, heartily wanting to laugh, "Really just like the arcade fighting game king, good in that aside from the so-called special moves, the other punches and kicks finally have no restricted movements." Actually the special moves also have no restrictions, it's just that each competitor's special move is years of training, the kung fu that best fits them, so the routine is relatively fixed.

Bai Lang simply kept his distance firing wave attacks; the Fierce Wind Fist and Typhoon Wheel took turns coming up, his qi circulation was much easier than the opponent having to hard-block his wave attacks draining stamina and qi. The opponent used qi to hard-block; the qi loss isn't much, but the body still receives impact, bit by bit accumulating into stamina loss. If the Savage Fury Chieftain lacks any quick-close-range special technique, after this step-by-step approach he probably shouldn't fight anymore.

Because Bai Lang turned the wave into a bullet curtain...

Taking a step forward and blocking a few moves would force a retreat of one step; that's not nothing. Bai Lang also needs to recover qi, but one inhale and exhale already does that? So after the Savage Fury Chieftain smashed another Fierce Wind Fist again, he let out a roar and unleashed his ultimate move. "What's this?" Bai Lang saw the opponent not shouting a move name, but instead enveloping his whole body in qi, thudding forward while his hands formed a tiger-claw embrace in front of his chest.

This should be a rush‑grab special move, right? Bai Lang thought so, the mental theater flashed like lightning—just as fast as the narration. This special move surely rushes in to grab hold, and during the impact it definitely maintains invulnerability throughout; as for whether damage reduction applies, I don't know. But seeing the muscle tremors and bulging eyes that the mask can't block, he must be in great pain.

However the distance had closed; if the tiger claw grabbed Bai Lang, this Savage Fury Chieftain should be able to unleash a series of throws from hip throw, reap cut to heaven‑earth return and so on. As a result Bai Lang twisted his body and extended his hand, "How about that?" Instantly a chaotic wave appeared at his wrist—a blade‑like vacuum wave that doesn't fly out, but is that close‑range exploding chaotic blade. This was Bai Lang's mockery.

That guy shouted "What?" then his clothes and the mask on his face were sliced to shreds, his invulnerable state vanished with a puff and he flew out. "Levitated!" Bai Lang then stretched his body, drew a claw light from low to high and sliced him again, levitation continued...... then came a sky‑rising kick, but as he lifted it he turned it into a hoe‑like motion and slammed the guy to the ground.

After levitation ended, taking three consecutive hits he fainted. "K. O.!" the beauty shouted again; after the doctor carried him away he said it was merely stamina exhaustion, some flesh wounds, a bone fracture leading to concussion‑induced faint. The third contestant, the New Era General, also seemed a daring warrior; though he hadn't grasped qi, he still stepped onto the platform. He assumed a stance with both hands gently half‑bent and extended forward.

The Aikido practitioner, without grasping qi, truly can't fight. Bai Lang slid in, followed up with a whisk‑claw and finished with an elbow strike; the opponent failed to complete his break‑fall technique and collapsed. Without qi's protection, the flesh is relatively fragile, especially Aikido which doesn't emphasize body conditioning. After finishing the one‑vs‑three, Bai Lang glanced at his clothes: "All right, aside from rolling and being thrown to the ground leaving some dust and wrinkles, there's nothing else."

Thus he raised his hand, and amid the audience's cheers he led his team off the field. Just as he was about to leave, the organizers stopped him: "Mr. Bai Lang, please bring your team onto the platform; there's also a ceremony! Even members who haven't appeared yet must come out and show themselves." Indeed, everyone had long realized this team was just Bai Lang and his cheer squad—such teams are not uncommon, part of them being celebrity‑hired promotion squads.

But another kind is more...... Do you really think you can easily find three qi‑grasping martial artists to form a team? Not easy, right. After all the tournament is team‑based, awarding collective honor; unless the sects have long‑term ties and the martial artists get along well, forming a team isn't that simple. So many competing teams are actually just one martial artist bringing two filler members...

And Bai Lang is merely another example of that; he brought two beauties, which isn't surprising at all, and in the organizers' view those two beauties aren't anything eye‑catching either.

Those seeded teams, those that received invitation letters, those are the true contenders for the Fighting King tournament—all three members are martial artists. Originally everyone was optimistic about the Martialist Wan Tuo Wu team; they were only one person short of the seeded team standard, yet unexpectedly they got taken on one‑vs‑three. "This just shows a new strong has appeared." And Bai Lang is diverse in style—at least two kinds of flight techniques also prove this.

Players with varied forms, gorgeous and diverse moves who are also strong are the most popular; advertisements and broadcast ratings can explode in the preliminaries. Bai Lang brought Ban Tian and Taozi onto the stage; he himself had nothing special, but those two women were intoxicated, their faces flushed pink to the point of madness, and Bai Lang directly felt they had practically become the embodiment of the term "radiant allure". After leaving the stage came the payout—simple and sturdy.

The organizers directly placed three one‑million‑dollar checks in Bai Lang's hands; Bai Lang wasn't stingy, giving one check each to Ban Tian and Taozi. "We're not some ragtag bunch; we split evenly." Bai Lang said with a grin, then he saw himself on the TV screen. "This is too......" Not surprisingly, beside the repeatedly played image of Bai Lang on the screen were hand‑written blood‑red large characters: "White Crane Four Heavenly Kings' Chief! White Crane Dragon Tiger! Prince Eight's Immovable Wisdom King! White's Raging Waves!"

This really makes one want to dig a hole and bury oneself, but hey, Japanese people just love this vibe! So Bai Lang went viral instantly! Those two women are also blowing up now, their lasciviousness can't be concealed; fortunately they still have sense enough not to go straight to a hotel, but predictably they dragged Bai Lang back to the apartment to go wild. The doorbell rang; Bai Lang strained to watch himself as he went to open the door—the window was open for ventilation, otherwise the room's smell would be truly overpowering.

At the door stood several sharply dressed men; Bai Lang looked at this respectful bunch and said, "Ah? Talking ads and agency? Or a management company?" Their business cards listed their companies and positions. Simply put, some want him as a spokesperson, others want him to sign with a management company—but the goal is the same: to give Bai Lang money.